


Light My Fire

by SnowyK



Series: The Cost of Courtship [1]
Category: Naruto
Genre: F/F, Fantasy AU, M/M, Make me choose (girls), uzushi0, witch and demon au
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-07-29
Updated: 2018-07-29
Packaged: 2019-06-18 03:40:26
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,437
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15476871
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/SnowyK/pseuds/SnowyK
Summary: Moving to Suna was supposed to be a fresh start for Mikoto and her boys, away from her judgmental coven of witches - ancient bonds with powerful demons definitely wasn't part of the plan.





	Light My Fire

**Author's Note:**

> Hello! This is my submission for the uzushi0 event Make Me Choose (Girls)! I originally planned something but it became a long fic, so I started on this one which was supposed to be short but decided to sprout into a series instead. So... there will be more in this series to come :)

Being a single parent would be challenging. Mikoto had known this, ignored the pressure from her parents and divorced Fugaku anyway. Her children would come first, always. Moving away from Konoha had been a risk; a witch never strays far from her coven but she couldn’t bear the thought of Itachi and Sasuke being raised drowning in whispers and pity.

It’s not like Suna hasn’t been perfectly hospitable. Witches aren’t as common as the elves, nymphs and elemental mages who blend in amongst the humans with ease, so her knowledge had been welcomed with open arms. No, the true issue was the lack of guidance when it comes to raising two very independent, very _stubborn_ witches.

Mikoto folds her arms, staring down her youngest son as he shuffles his feet outside of his summoning circle. “What did I say about using magic unsupervised?”

Sasuke glowers at her for a moment, testing the waters. Mikoto narrows her eyes and he acquiesces with a slight pout to his lips. She doesn’t let it shift her stern glare. “Not to,” he finally says.

“Then why are you doing it?” Mikoto inspects the circle – drawn with a careful hand and lined with neat runes, she’d be proud of him if he wasn’t being such a fool – and frowns a little at the lemon sitting innocently in the centre. “Why a lemon? We have some in the fridge.”

Now Sasuke looks sheepish, rubbing a hand against his neck and averting his gaze. He mumbles something and Mikoto shakes her head, stepping into the room and taking care to avoid the chalk on the floorboards.

“You can tell me, Sasuke,” she says, watching as he disengages the circle with an accurate swipe of his foot through the chalk.

“You’ll think it’s dumb,” Sasuke says flatly, forming a hand seal to vanish the chalk before retrieving the lemon.

“More so than summoning unsupervised? Or doing any magic above C rank, really?” Mikoto raises her eyebrows until Sasuke sighs and nods, finally thinking his actions through. “What if you summoned a demon? Don’t say it’d be cool,” she says sharply, _knowing_ that intrigued light in his eyes. “It’d be dangerous.”

“Itachi summoned a demon,” Sasuke mutters.

“Itachi is twenty one,” Mikoto says, distantly wondering if she was this troublesome as a child. Honestly, she probably was. “You’re sixteen, and not a graduate yet.” Sasuke still looks a little petulant so she resists the urge to roll her eyes, preparing herself for yet another repeat of the _magic is dangerous and you’re breaking the law_ speech. She’d certainly had enough practise with Itachi.

“Let’s discuss this over tea,” she says, eyeing the lemon. “Is that viable?”

Sasuke holds up the lemon like he’d forgotten it was there. “Probably?”

Mikoto turns around to head to the kitchen before she does something stupid. Really, she’s glad they didn’t get Fugaku’s lack of passion and interest outside themselves, but couldn’t they have at least inherited some of his common sense?

 

* * *

 

 

Suna is swelteringly hot half the time, uncomfortably dry and warm the rest. It’s too stifling for tea so Mikoto pours them both some of the lemonade she’d made yesterday.

She doesn’t use the summoned lemon.

The fruit sits between them, intense stares pinning it to the wooden dining table. “So,” Mikoto starts after a sip. If she doesn’t focus on the hot kitchen, the longing for Konoha’s light spring breezes doesn’t hurt. “Why the lemon? That we don’t trust to eat it should be proof enough that it was dangerous.”

Sasuke bides his time with very long, slow sips. Mikoto recalls when he was young, so enthusiastic and open with her. Teenagers tend to get sullen but the Uchiha get it in spades. Itachi is only now growing out of it and bridging the gap he’d enforced between them. Sometimes she wonders what it’d be like if she had a daughter.

Then she remembers sneaking out at sixteen to steal a tome from the elders and training to top her class because Yashiro said women were useless and belonged in the kitchen. She’d never been caught, either.

Maybe it’s a good thing she has sons. She doesn’t know what she’d do if either of her children were _subtle_.

“You’re going to say it’s stupid,” Sasuke says at last, “but there’s a comic that’s kind of a meme, where a wizard tries to summon a demon but it was written in cursive and they actually summoned a lemon. So. I wanted to summon a lemon to see if it was possible. It is.”

Mikoto very carefully doesn’t roll her eyes. “You did it for a meme.”

Sasuke actually looks surprised. “You know what a meme is?”

This time Mikoto can’t help the groan. “I’m not ancient! And you are most definitely not the first witch to do something for a meme, or a vine.”

Sasuke’s mouth twitches with amusement. “Vines are so old, Mum.”

Sighing, Mikoto drains her glass and sets it down with a sense of finality. “Now then. I feel like you’re thinking now about how bad that could’ve gone, but you still did something illegal. I’m cutting off the wifi for two weeks. No,” she talks over Sasuke’s protest, “you can use it for school _at_ _school_ or the library. If your phone uses it all up then that’s on you. Do we have an understanding?”

Glowering for a second and then staring down sullenly at his glass, Sasuke nods. “I understand. I won’t attempt a summons without supervision again.”

“Good,” Mikoto smiles. “Now, since you’re here, you can help me with dinner.”

Sasuke brightens at that; no matter how old he’s become, he’d always enjoyed learning from her. Cooking and brewing potions were talents he could hold over Itachi’s head.

 

* * *

 

 

Really, she should’ve known better.

Mikoto knew something was up when she came home to the distinct smell of forest, a scent that definitely wasn’t native to the busy city of Suna. She places her bag by the door and marches straight to Sasuke’s room, but is surprised to find it empty. There are voices in the hall, muffled by the walls. She follows them to Itachi’s room, bewildered to hear his voice. She listens cautiously, hears an unfamiliar voice and narrows her eyes.

“Eldest?” she says, careful not to say any names as she opens the door. “I thought you weren’t visiting until next weekend.”

Itachi is sitting on his bed, an old spell book in his lap – she recognises it from Fugaku’s collection. She can’t imagine her ex-husband willingly parting from it, so Itachi must have stolen it. Pride and disappointment tangle in her throat as she spots Sasuke leaning against the dresser, a safe distance away from the summoning circle. In its centre is a demon boy, his youthful face suggesting a similar age to Sasuke but Mikoto knows looks can be deceiving.

The demon waves at her, blue eyes bright and crinkled with his broad smile. “Hello! You have a lovely home,” he greets.

Mikoto isn’t buying it. “Boys,” she says warningly.

“I have supervision,” Sasuke says quickly. He points to his brother. “He’s adult supervision.” Mikoto is relieved he didn’t use Itachi’s name and hopes neither of them have broken such a sacred rule.

“It seemed like a good experiment,” Itachi says, not a hint of guilt on his face. “He was successful and summoned a C rank demon.”

“Hey!” the boy protests, his golden tails swishing behind him. Disregarding his nudity, Mikoto counts nine tails and feels her face blanch. “I’m totally an A rank. I could beat your ass!”

Sasuke narrows his eyes. “You’re listed as C rank.”

The boy’s irritation promptly evaporates and his eyes sparkle. “Oh by the gods, I’m _listed_.”

Mikoto leans against the door with a defeated sigh. “Have you been summoned before?”

The boy, and if he is older than he appears he’s an excellent actor because he doesn’t feel a day over seventeen, perks up as if thrilled with the attention. “Never! Everyone always gets summoned but I don’t. Maybe because I’m apparently listed _wrong_ ,” he shoots a glare at the book.

Glancing at her boys, Mikoto raises her eyebrows. “Have you briefed him?”

Sasuke’s eyes narrow with confusion while Itachi glances at the page open on his lap. “We have informed him he cannot breach the circle without invitation, he can dismiss himself at will or we can, and we used a simple contract that can be appeased by a mild agreement, such as clapping when asked.”

“And the emotional bond?” Mikoto prompts. All three boys watch her blankly. What does their school _teach them_. “Okay,” she says, entering the room and sitting neatly by the circle’s edge. “Have you told them your name, or did the book list it?”

“Nope!” the boy says cheerfully, his large ears quirking towards her. Almost too cute for a demon, and Mikoto is beginning to suspect he really is young as far as kitsune go. “Mama says not to tell anyone my name if they ask for it.”

Sasuke’s scoff doesn’t quite cover his laugh. “You call your mother ‘Mama’?”

“Got a problem with it, dickhead?” The boy sticks his tongue out at Sasuke before turning back to Mikoto with a perfectly pleasant expression. “Names hold power.”

“Indeed they do,” Mikoto smiles. “For now we’ll give you a nickname, since they don’t.”

“Dobe,” Sasuke says automatically. “What kind of nine-tails gets ranked so low they’re never summoned.”

The kitsune bristles for a moment before a cunning light brightens his narrowed eyes. “The kind summoned by a witch so inexperienced they need a babysitter and start with a _C rank_.”

Sasuke glares at him and Mikoto interrupts before things can get out of hand. “Okay, how about… Blondie?”

“Or Fluffy,” Sasuke adds, meeting the demon’s glare defiantly.

“Why does he need a name?” Itachi asks, ignoring the boys as they begin insulting each other. “We’re not likely to see him again.”

“Blondie hasn’t been summoned before,” Mikoto says, scrunching her nose a moment later. “No, Blondie doesn’t work. But there’s a certain bond between a demon summoned for the first time, and a witch summoning for the first time. It’s uncommon to have a situation where _both_ are virgin.”

“Mum!” Sasuke protests, his cheeks darkening while the kitsune laughs at him.

“Virgin _summons_ ,” Mikoto stresses, “there’s ancient power in it.” Sasuke quiets down, sensing the gravity of the situation. “I haven’t heard of it happening personally, but lore says it increases the power of both exponentially. And you summoned a _kitsune_. He’s right, at nine tails he’d be an A rank _at least_. That kind of power… it’s dangerous unchecked. This is why there’s a bond between the summoned and the summoner, though varying in strength; the power needs to be channelled through an outlet.”

The kitsune nods, clearly familiar with the information. “Mama said something similar. You’re definitely the first to summon me, and I can sense I’m your first summons.” His tails flick behind him, excited even as he tries to be serious. “You’re powerful,” he adds, eyes dimming as he focuses on Sasuke’s magic. “It doesn’t matter that the summons was relatively simple.” He pauses for a moment and nods to himself. “Is it okay if I speak to him privately?” he asks, addressing Mikoto politely. “There’s something I have to say before I leave. I will have to impose upon you again soon.”

Mikoto had been expecting that. “Of course. It would be foolish to disrupt a bond like that. Please respect the trust I’m giving you for this, and know if harm ever came to my son because of your actions…” she allows her magic to break out of her skin, filling the room with an ominous presence.

The boy’s eyes widen, obviously impressed, and he nods quickly. “Yes Ma’am!”

Mikoto jerks her head towards the door. “Eldest.”

Itachi nods and crawls off the bed, passing the book to Sasuke before following her out. “Is it wise to leave them together?” he asks as he closes the door.

“It’s dangerous, of course, which is why I would appreciate being told before you try summoning _demons_ ,” Mikoto narrows her eyes and Itachi has the decency to look mildly guilty. “But severing a bond with that much magical potential would be disastrous. They must open themselves to each other and feed it, or the magic will explode and devour them both.”

Itachi’s face pales at that, and he leans against the door. “I’m sorry. I didn’t realise the severity- I really thought it would be C rank.”

Sighing quietly, Mikoto runs a gentle hand through his hair and wonders when he’d gotten so tall. “You must always be careful with magic. It has a way of surprising you.”

A rush of wind rattles the door and they barge into the room. The last of the wind settles; the room is in total disarray, papers everywhere and several objects overturned. The circle is empty and untouched. Sasuke remains seated where he was before, hair dishevelled and eyes wide. “Are you okay?” Mikoto asks, quickly breaking the circle safely before tilting Sasuke’s head to check his pupils.

“I’m fine,” Sasuke says, “he went to talk to his mother. He- we exchanged names, but he asked me not to tell you yet. And when we did, I could feel it- the bond. It’s still there,” his voice is soft with awe.

“It will be there for a while yet,” Mikoto says, pulling him into a hug. “Really, my first summoning wasn’t nearly this dramatic.”

Itachi casts a spell to move the papers back into place. “What would the Uchiha be without drama.”

 

* * *

 

 

The kitsune is all smiles and excitable energy every time he visits, so they settle on calling him Sunshine. The bond he and Sasuke share is even stronger than Mikoto had anticipated; if they don’t have close proximity within a day, Sasuke gets itchy and uncomfortable. The longest they went was three days apart, just to test their limits, before both developed near unbearable pain.

Sasuke’s bedroom now has an extra futon and Mikoto has another stomach to fill on a regular basis. At least Sunshine comes with gold as compensation.

Explaining the demon gold to the pawn shop faery had been… interesting. Kurenai almost threw her out of the shop before she could prove it wasn’t cursed. The quality had been higher than she’d thought – the gold for the past two weeks was converted to almost five thousand dollars. It was obscene and she’d told Sunshine so, but he’d refused to take any of it back. Automatically, Mikoto had asked him to check the amount with his mother. Sunshine had a voracious appetite but he certainly wasn’t eating her out of house and home.

Really, she should’ve realised that was practically an invitation.

 

* * *

 

She senses the strong pulse of magic before she even enters her street. It grows stronger as she approaches, heavy yet not oppressive. Mikoto locks the car and takes a breath to centre herself as she walks to the front door. The doorknob unlocks itself before she can touch it; the unnecessary use of magic has her rolling her eyes. At least Sasuke’s in school and Itachi’s with Fugaku, she muses. The small, vindictive part of Mikoto hopes he steals another book.

She waves a hand over the runes hidden within the front door’s hinges. They light up with her touch and ignite, spreading throughout the house to activate its perimeter; an innocent intrusion mid-meeting with a demon this powerful would be less than ideal.

The demon’s magic is almost powerful enough choke her but she pushes through it, releases her own magic to form a buffer around her. She heads straight for her bedroom, the source of the wild magic bright as a beacon.

The sight that greets her as she opens the door isn’t exactly what she’d been expecting. A woman is on her bed, exceptionally long red hair strewn across the sheets. Violet eyes watch her with amusement, assessing her slowly as Mikoto counts the nine blood red tails filling half of her room. She doesn’t say anything, clearly very comfortable on her bed.

Mikoto squashes the thought.

“Hello,” she says instead, letting more of her magic escape when the kitsune attempts to overwhelm her with her own magic. Mikoto forces herself to relax and condenses her magic around herself until she can breathe with ease. The woman’s lips stretch into a satisfied smirk. “I take it you are Sunshine’s mother?”

The smirk widens even as her eyes soften. It’s an unsettling combination Mikoto isn’t sure what to make of. “You really do call him that. Indeed I am.” She pauses for a long moment, head tilted like she’s assessing her again. “You’re still being careful with names?”

There’s a test in these somewhere, Mikoto is certain. “Names are powerful. The boys have exchanged them, but it’s a private matter.” The kitsune’s stare never leaves her eyes; Mikoto steels herself to meet it, not wanting to give in so soon. “If and when Sunshine wants to share, we will.”

The woman pushes herself up to rest her chin on one hand, her tails swishing lazily behind her. Mikoto can’t spot a single stray fur or hair on her bed. “What would you call me?” she asks, and Mikoto can’t take that as anything but a dare.

“What would you call me?” Mikoto raises an eyebrow, pleased to see the kitsune’s eyes widen with surprise. “Sunshine calls me Other Mum. I take it you would prefer another.”

That amused smirk glitters faintly with a gold lip gloss. Part of Mikoto wants to know what it tastes like, the rest of her halts the thought in its tracks and strangles it. “I asked you first,” the demon says, lowering her eyelids slightly like she _knows_ what Mikoto just thought.

If the lore of kitsune is true, she might.

Dozens of names run through Mikoto’s mind, each dismissed as quickly as they appeared. Nothing seems right, she muses as she scrutinises the woman. “Wildfire,” she settles on eventually. Violet eyes narrow with contemplation before nods approvingly.

“Fair,” she says, tossing a long lock of brilliant red hair back from her face. “And yes, my son can call you what he likes but I certainly don’t see you as _my_ mother,” she drawls, dragging her gaze down Mikoto’s body with such unexpected heat that Mikoto’s face flushes instantly. Really, it’s been years since someone’s flirted with her, let alone so blatantly. “Kuzunoha?” she muses, tasting the words on her tongue, “No, too tragic. You have a fire essence to your magic…” Her own magic reaches out again, but instead of being aggressive it nudges her own, mingling with it and blurring at the edges. An instinctual terror leaps into her throat but Mikoto tries to ignore it, too curious to resist; if Wildfire wanted her dead she would’ve killed her already, after all.

“Are you… analysing my magic?” Mikoto asks, shifting uncomfortably as the red wash of demon magic presses closer to her. It abruptly leaps towards her face and her own magic rises to defend her, flashing with cobalt flames. She adjusts her stance to prepare for a fight but the demon magic withdraws just as fast.

Wildfire looks immensely satisfied. “You’re more dangerous than you know.”

“I beg your pardon?” Mikoto frowns, knowing she’s missing something but not _what_.

That damn smirk parts enough to reveal pointed canines and it’s not fair that Mikoto still wants to kiss her. “Then beg, my Nekomata.”

A blink and the kitsune is gone. Mikoto stands frozen in the doorway, shell-shocked from the sudden disappearance of Wildfire’s heavy presence. She reaches a hand to her temple and rubs absently, spotting an object to the bed as she approaches. It’s a coin, she realises as she picks it up, with a rune she’s never seen before.

She resolves to have a cup of tea before processing this any further. She leaves the black coin in her mother’s jewellery box, empty but for a ring she’d been given upon leaving Konoha.

It’s only on her second tea that it strikes her she forgot to protest about the gold.

 

* * *

 

When Mikoto first moved to Suna, she’d been greeted with a cautious welcome. The witches were tight-knit and kept to themselves, deigning to assess her from a distance and let her know whether they’d accept her once they’d come to a decision.

Four years and she still hasn’t heard anything. The mages in her district were far more approachable, and if befriending them would upset her parents even more then she was all for it.

The next day finds Mikoto in the unassuming shop of an earth mage, black coin heavy in her pocket.

“So let me get this straight,” Karura says, absently stirring a potion while Mikoto watches from her seat in the storeroom. She tosses in a sprig of rosemary and it hisses, threatening to bubble over until a vial of red liquid is added. Mikoto’s pretty sure it’s a poison. “Your son bonded with a kitsune and his mother is hot and gave you gold.”

Mikoto covers her splutter with a cough and looks away from Karura’s amused eyes. “Well when you put it that way.”

“Is that not what happened?” Karura laughs, the sound light and tinkering in the otherwise gloomy room. There’s a crash outside followed by a yelled apology and they roll their eyes. “I’m gonna fire him one of these days.”

“He’s your brother,” Mikoto says, her voice a touch wistful. “You can’t fire him.”

“Watch me,” Karura says, a mischievous smile upon her lips as she adds a finishing touch to the poison. It blackens and releases a pungent odour before seemingly changing its mind and transitioning to clear fluid. “The bond will settle soon enough. It may close completely, or they may remain linked for life. What’s the problem? He sounds like a sweet boy.”

Mikoto smiles and turns the coin over in her pocket. “I’m a bit surprised you’re so accepting, honestly. Back home everyone would be having an aneurysm.”

“They are a little uptight in Konoha,” Karura says cheekily. “Our worlds are not so far apart. There’s nothing wrong with being a demon.”

Mikoto mulls over this quietly, letting Karura work uninterrupted as she considers how far she can go with her questions. “Can kitsune sense attraction?”

Karura’s giggle doesn’t quite cover the sound of the skulls she’s crushing. “Does sand turn to glass? Yes, most definitely. Many demons can, but those tracking-inclined in particular. Why?”

Mikoto clenches the coin in her fist. “She… left something, after she vanished.”

Looking up from the bones, Karura watches her curiously. “Like what?”

She wordlessly takes the coin out of her pocket and holds it out. Karura’s eyes narrow and she claps the dust off her hands, wiping them off with a towel before turning away from the workbench to inspect the coin. “Oh,” she breathes with surprise.

Heart beating faster than she’d like, Mikoto schools her expression into composure. “What is it?”

Karura brushes her thumb over the rune gently. “My husband gave me something similar, shortly after we first met. It’s a demonic rune for Potential; it’s like a courting ritual that’s a polite way to invite a link between magics.” Karura meets Mikoto’s wide eyes with a gentle smile. “You must’ve made quite an impression.”

“But- I only met her once, and nearly fought her.” Mikoto hasn’t felt this odd combination of flattered and embarrassed in _years_. “And I’m a witch. Witch-demon relations are almost unheard of.”

Karura hands the coin back with a barely suppressed snicker. “Almost. I said my husband gave me something similar. My _demon_ husband.”

Mikoto nearly drops the coin. “I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to-”

“It’s fine,” Karura shakes her head and turns back to the workbench. “It’s a bit of an open secret.” She continues to crush the bones into a fine dust. “You can ask,” she says, feeling the volume of Mikoto’s silence.

“Temari and Kankurō,” Mikoto says, “they don’t seem…”

“Different?” Karura shakes her head. “Demon blood is strong in some, dormant in others. Their blood is so dormant it’s almost non-existent. If anyone tries to kill them they’re in for a nasty surprise.”

Mikoto nods, but something in her gut twists and demands to be known.

She ignores it.

“What are your thoughts?” Karura pours a steady stream of bone powder into a new cauldron. “On this kitsune of yours.”

Mikoto stares down at the coin, tracing her finger over the curved edges. “I don’t know what to think. I’m a little old to be romanced.”

“Now that’s bullshit,” Karura snorts and reaches for a vial of mercury. “You’re never too old. Age gaps? Do you know how old she is?”

“Not at all,” Mikoto shakes her head. “Her son insists he really is sixteen though.”

Karura sinks some of her earth magic into the potion and faces her with a sly smile. “You’re not protesting about her being a demon at all.”

Mikoto sighs and tucks the coin back into her pocket. “It’s just… a lot to think about. I don’t think I personally see it as an issue beyond lifespan. And my boys – I don’t want to risk changing everything for them again.”

Karura nods slowly and turns to her potion. “Perfectly understandable. My advice? She’s a mother, she’d understand. Just take it slow, no pressure to do anything at all. That’s what the coin means.” She pours something forest green into the cauldron and the air fills with the scent of pine needles. “Do you know her name?”

“We’re all being careful,” Mikoto says, “only our sons have exchanged them. We’re using nicknames for now.”

“What did you call her?” Karura asks, glancing back over her shoulder.

Mikoto’s face flushes. She likes the name and the kitsune seemed to have liked it too, but saying it to another person is oddly intimate. “Wildfire.”

Karura’s face lights up. “That’s _adorable_ ,” she gushes, and Mikoto can’t help but notice the recognition in her eyes. “What did she call you?”

“You know who she is,” Mikoto says with surprise.

“I think I do,” Karura says with a wink. “There’s only one kitsune I know of who would fit that name. But! It’s up to her to tell you more, so I won’t.”

“Fair enough,” Mikoto says, clenching the coin in her fist again. “I will ask this though – knowing her however much you do, what do you think of us? If we were to…” she trails off with her face heating. She hadn’t made her mind up yet, but something inside of her is too curious to remain quiet.

Karura smiles like she’d just passed an unspoken test. “I think you would be good for each other.” She pauses for a long moment and nods, “terrifying, but good.”

“Terrifying,” Mikoto laughs, the knot inside of her chest easing a little. “She said something along those lines too.”

“Interesting,” Karura hums. “What did she call you again?”

“I don’t think she did, really,” Mikoto casts her mind back. “She called me a nekomata, but I don’t know if that was a name or not.”

Karura hums again, but doesn’t look back. That knot coils itself tight with apprehension. “I think you’ll have to ask her.”

 

* * *

 

 

Mikoto knows what a nekomata is objectively after consulting some of her more obscure books – a type of bakaneko with two tails with fire affinity, necromancy and persuasion. What she doesn’t know is what this has to do with _her_.

She asks Sunshine to pass a message that she’d like to speak with his mother again, but she doesn’t hear of anything for a few days.

So it’s a surprise to wake up on a quiet Saturday morning to find Wildfire sitting next to her in bed, reading one of her books.

“Fuck,” is all she manages to say.

Wildfire looks away from the page long enough to smile at her. “Good morning. Your book is woefully inadequate.”

Mikoto should be asking what she’s doing here, or how long she’s been there. At least Wildfire clearly hadn’t been staring at her the whole time – there’s a pile of the books she’d been reading before bed sitting beside them. “Oh god, you’re a morning person,” is what comes out instead.

Wildfire giggles like it’s the funniest thing she’s heard all day. “Occasionally. Have you thought about my proposal?”

If she wasn’t awake before, that word certainly has her wide-eyed now. “Um.”

Turning a page, Wildfire hums and shifts her tails. Only then does Mikoto realise a couple had been draped over her. “That’s not a no.”

Mikoto pulls the covers over her face and Wildfire laughs at her. “I don’t know what you see in me,” she says, her words muffled. The sheets are abruptly pulled from her face and sunlight streams onto her face, obstructed by Wildfire looming over her with an amused grin.

“That’s a shame,” Wildfire says, tucking a loose lock of hair behind Mikoto’s ear. “Would you accept my courtship?”

Heart thudding from the proximity, Mikoto’s half-formed thoughts collide catastrophically in her mind. Despite the turmoil, the edges of her consciousness echo with a resounding _yes, yes, yes_ and slowly drown out her rational thought. Something burns within her, tinted cobalt and reaching out with possessive claws. “I’m not all witch, am I?” she breathes.

Violet eyes glitter, closer than they were before. “No,” she whispers, “you are more.”

Wildfire rests a hand against her cheek and pauses, clearly waiting for Mikoto’s approval. Biting her lip, her breath catches in her throat as those eyes latch onto her mouth. “Would you tell me your name?” Mikoto asks.

Those gold lips stretch into a pleased smile. “Would that be a yes?” she asks, tilting her head slightly. Red hair brushes across Mikoto’s face, soft and smooth. At her nod Wildfire’s smile grows and her thumb brushes across Mikoto’s warm cheeks. “My name is Kushina,” she murmurs, her voice feather soft and heavy with promise. An ancient magic settles between them, stretching like threads and binding some of Kushina’s magic to Mikoto. The power clouds Mikoto’s mind a little, the sensation like linking a river to an ocean.

“My name,” she says with a hush, struggling to get the words out around her heavy tongue, “is Mikoto.” The threads of magic contort between them, tugging on both of their magic and twisting them together. Mikoto has exchanged names before, but it’s never felt so _intimate_ or rung with such a sense of finality.

“Mikoto,” Kushina breathes, tasting the words as if she hadn’t just placed her life within her hands – and Mikoto can feel it, the power in their names – she could share their magic, lean on her affinities and ask anything of her. That the name exchange is mutual is a safeguard for misuse, but the bond is so palpable Mikoto can almost touch it.

“I accept your courtship,” Mikoto says gently, reaching up to run her hands though brilliant crimson. The bond fills her with a sense of safety, an assurance that Kushina won’t harm her or her boys. That possessiveness gnawing in her chest grows more demanding, hungry for more and Mikoto would be concerned with it if Kushina wasn’t moving her hand from her cheek to pass a spell over her mouth. Mint tingles on her teeth before Kushina moves closer and soft lips press against her own.

Mikoto gasps as their magic thunders through them in deafening waves, second only to the warm press of hands on her jaw and a long leg warm between her own. Heat sears her lips and her tongue darts out for a taste; Kushina’s hum vibrates into her mouth as if chasing the vanilla. Sharp teeth give her lower lip a teasing nip before leaving too soon.

Kushina is sitting up when she opens her eyes, tongue sweeping her lip in a pleased smirk. “I chose well, my nekomata,” she says, eyelids lowered with satisfaction at the magic resonating between them. She leans closer, brushing her lips against Mikoto’s flushed cheek. “I should leave, lest our boys find us otherwise… occupied,” she huffs a laugh as Mikoto tries to follow her lips.

“You’ll be back though,” Mikoto protests, trying to break through the fog in her mind.

Kushina tilts her head with an intrigued smile, eyes drinking in the sight of Mikoto flustered and wanting. “You couldn’t keep me away.”

 


End file.
